


Miami Heat

by DMichelleWrites



Series: D's Olicity Summer Sizzle [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Inspired bySeñorita from Shawn Mendes and Camila CabelloOliver and Felicity have a rousing one night stand, and after six long months, they cross paths again at a Waffle House in Miami. Summer isn't the only thing heating up their long awaited reunion. Will they become more than friends with benefits?





	Miami Heat

**Author's Note:**

> It's one of very few times I'm breaking my rule of when I write Oliver and Felicity married in every story. Enjoy this.

Oliver cruised over through traffic, not even bothering to take in the scenery. He came here with one goal, and that was to see Felicity Smoak. It was a long way from Gotham to Miami, but she was worth it. The engine of his loud roaring Ducati died down, and he took off his helmet. Cars honked and sirens blared on the open road, yet his heartbeat seemed louder than everything else around him. Golden sun caressed his face. He sucked in a breath in anticipation and stepped into the Waffle House. The bell dinged, and he was greeted by a familar waitress.

“Hello, sir, welcome to Waffle House, how may I help you?” The sassy brunette huffed, “Oh, it’s you. Sit anywhere you want.”

“Cammie, come on. I had to go back to Gotham to see my son.”

Pushing her side bang back, Cammie noted, “You could’ve least left her more than a text message, asshole.”

Oliver looked down sheepishly at his black boots. “Fair enough, I’m, um, just going to go over here.” 

He grabbed an empty booth, leather squeaking as he slide into his spot by the window. Oliver shrugged off his motorcycle jacket. His plain white t-shirt was practically painted on his skin in this humid Florida summer. The fry cook was yelling out meal tickets as Cammie took his order.

“Buttermilk waffles, and black coffee please.” Her customer ordered with so much as a glance at the menu.

The waitress chuckled bitterly, scrawling his order, “Black coffee for a guy with a black heart.”

“You don’t even know me that well.” Oliver scoffed, face crumpling in disdain.

Cammie reminded, “I know you hurt my best friend.”

She didn’t realize she grabbed by the shirt collar until her father who was the fry cook stepped out from behind the kitchen.

“¡Oye, Mila, basta!” Her father reprimanded with a loud whistle. “¿Qué demonios estás haciendo? Recibe la orden del gringo. Te necesito en la mesa tres ahora mismo.”

Cammie apologized, lips rolling in her mouth, “Si, si, lo siento, papi.”

His spatula clanged against the chipped avocado green counter.

“Dale, vamos, hija.” He ushered, “¡Rapido, rapido!”

She rolled her eyes, “Ay, asi, por supuesto, papi. Estaré ahí.”

Oliver chuckled. The business major knew four languages, and not a lick of Spanish. Food sizzled in the kitchen. Cooks were hustling and bustling with tickets and plates. A line of old waffle irons creaked with overuse, and Cammie begrudgingly returned to Oliver’s table with his order. The waffles and sweet sticky syrup nearly fell onto his lap with the way Cammie flung it in front of him.

“Thank you?” Her customer responded, eyebrows arching in question rather than gratitude.

She hummed, and brusquely walked back to the kitchen, “Mm-hm.”

“You didn’t spit in my food, did you?” 

Cammie licked her red lips, “You’ll never know, estupido.”

He cringed, and used his fork to play with a spherical pad of melted butter. He took a sip of his coffee, and Cammie stuck her tongue out him. He immediately regretted that decision, but stayed in the goddamn booth all through the morning. Oliver finally caught a glimpse of Felicity. She was laughing with a customer. The undergrad brought her customer a loaded plate of chicken and waffles. Felicity had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard. His gaze so blatantly on her ample cleavage in that pale yellow uniform. It felt almost like it did six months ago when they first met.

* * *

He stopped at this waffle house for a quick bite. Little did he know he’d stay for breakfast and lunch just to see her. Oliver looked at Felicity for the first time like she was the most radiant human being in the restaurant. Everything else fell away in his mind. And to him, she was beyond stunning. Felicity had this insanely blue eyes that refracted hues of green and hazel like a kaleidoscope when the sunlight hit them.

Later Oliver had to go to some stodgy business meeting because his dad said so, but by nightfall he and his buddy Shawn hit up the town.

Shawn offered, “Why don’t you play a little something, Oliver?”

“You only taught me a few chords, you fucker.” Oliver teased, taking the Spanish guitar. “But why not?”

He strummed a few chords, trying to follow along with that sultry syncopated Latin beat. The club was smokey. It smelled the inside of a Cuban cigar — tobacco mixed with rich earthy soil soaked in rain. Palm tree wallpaper was peeling off the venue no thanks to crazy rain storms. Coins clinked in Shawn’s guitar case. 

“Thanks.” Shawn winked at Felicity’s best friend, “See you later, Cammie.”

She mused, sizing him up, “Hm, maybe if you play your cards right.”

“You were really good.” The pretty blonde giggled behind her hand.

He shrugged, “Eh, I do alright.”

The beautiful blonde waitress he saw earlier that day was wearing a super low cut black sequinned dress. And that floaty A-line skirt made her legs look like they were miles long. Her heels clacked against the dance floor.

“Okay, wow. Shawn’s friend is really cute.” Felicity beamed, wondering in a whisper, “What’s his name?”

“Oliver Queen” Cammie heeded, “But be careful, girl. He’s just gone through a divorce.”

Her mouth fell agape, “Woah, what? Shawn’s a senior at Gotham U now, so wouldn’t that mean, his friend Oliver’s around the same age, right? Like what twenty-two.”

“Yes, but he knocked up some writer chick at twenty on his Daddy’s yacht, according to Shawn. They had a kid together, and dude’s pretty good, I guess. He put a ring on it.”

Felicity sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Wow! That’s a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.”

“Just telling you how I see it, ‘Lis.”

She figured, “So the message you’re sending me is to stay away. Stay far away from him.”

“That’s up to you, Babe.” Cammie assured, squeezing her shoulder, “But men like Oliver Queen come with a lot of baggage.”

Felicity brushed it off, “Come on. We all have a past, Cam. And how do you know all this from Shawn anyway?”

“Ah, you know what a chismoso that guy is.” Cammie with a hair flip, fiddling with her big hoop earring.

Her best friend suspected with a smirk, “I guess the better question is when? When your were in his dorm room right before Christmas break.”

“Pfft, girl why you lyin’?” She teased, unable to look directly in her eyes, “Shawn and I, we cool. But we ain’t about that life.”

She reminded, bouncing on her toes, “Cam, you were wearing his GU gators tee the other day.”

“It’s super comfortable.” Cammie admitted with a blush.

Felicity said, “Uh-huh, I’m sure Shawn agrees.”

The ladies shared a laugh. But soon Felicity locked eyes with Oliver across a crowded like they were only two people there. He had these striking blue eyes that just drew anyone under his spell. This cute blonde buzz cut that seemed like she just needed to run her fingers through it. And his biceps certainly distracted her from his out of tune guitar playing. Felicity licked her lips at the sight of those suspenders. He must’ve just come from a business meeting or something. And a few of those tattoos peeking through his white undershirt definitely intrigued her.

“That’s it.” Shawn said, slapping his hands. He grabbed the neck of his guitar, “You do not get to ruin Marisol with that ear torture.”

Oliver pointed out, “Uh, you were the one who suggested it.”

“Never again,” His best friend vowed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Okay.”

He inhaled and coughed the thick air out of his lungs. His gaze found that cute blonde again laughing with Cammie.

Shawn suggested, “You keep staring at her like that, it’s bound to get creepy, brother.”

“Sorry, what?”

He ushered, “Go ask her to dance.”

“You know I don’t dance.” Oliver reminded, lips pursed.

Shawn slapped his forehead, propelling his roommate toward the girls, “So pretend like you do.”

Oliver weaved through the club goers. He stupidly tried puffing out his chest, but then he breathed in the pungent scent of rank sweat socks as he passed an old drunken man. He was making his way over to her, gulping a nervous ball of energy that clogged in his throat. Sweat dripped off him before he even knew her name, and it had nothing to do with the weather. This woman was a freaking goddess in four inch heels. Despite that in front of that adorable blonde waitress, he appeared strapping, tall, and handsome. Oliver knew how to fake confidence well just like he did every week in his father’s boardroom meetings.

The college senior introduced, “Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”

“Felicity… Smoak.” The blonde waitress replied, shaking his hand with a firm grip, “My friend Cammie was telling me all about you.”

Oliver surmised, “Mm, oh, really, so you’ve been asking about me, huh? All good things I hope?”

“Maybe. You seem pretty interesting, Queen.” She giggled, blowing out a breath, “And you think you’re cute, right?”

“Me, no? But I was kind of hoping you thought I was cute, Felicity. Nice name by the way.”

She showed off her pearly whites, “Thank you. And, um, what was your first impression of me?”

“I think you’re insanely beautiful.” Oliver so easily admitted, foot brushing against his ankle, “And well, I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

Felicity said, vision flickering down to his awaiting hand, “My, my, so formal. I bet you say that to all the girls.” 

“Only the ones I like. And I married the last one.”

Shawn lightly punched him in the stomach. He huffed, “Dude, you are so bad at this. Never bring up the ex to the first girl you see.”

“It’s okay, Shawny. I like ‘em honest.” Felicity obliged.

The biker scratched the back of his neck, “For the record, we were officially divorced on New Year’s Eve.”

“Good to know.” Felicity suspected, “So about that dance? You don’t look much like a Salsa kind of guy.”

He chuckled nervously, “Eh, you caught me. I’m not big on dancing, but I’m sure you and I could figure out together if you want, Felicity.”

“Smooth recovery.” Shawn muttered under his breath.

Cammie grabbed his hand, “Oh, okay. I think that means we gotta go.”

She pulled her friend with benefits on the dance floor, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone. Felicity blinked, gaze traveling down from head to toe. He had this sweet boyish smile. He was upfront, honest, and charming. Her pale pink lip jutted out as she really thought about it. It was kind of funny watching him sweat it out in anticipation.

Felicity agreed after a long beat, “Sure, okay. Why not?”

“Cool.” Oliver smiled, taking her hand in his.

He snapped his fingers as she swayed to the uptempo beat of a new Pitbull banger under red and blue neon lights. It transitioned to a slow ballad when the full moon hung in a dark sapphire sky. 

They danced for hours. He twirled her into him. Felicity panted when she felt his own heartbeat thrumming against her back. Oliver slid his hands seductively up her body along with the twang of his friend’s Spanish guitar. She fit right in his hands. Her breath hitched, not knowing what to do with her feelings she walked to the open bar. Felicity stared at him moon-eyed with bated breath. They closed out the night with Felicity loudly sipping a vibrant orange tequila sunrise down to the last drop. Her heart galloped in her chest. Her body hummed with desire. Maybe it was the tequila shot of courage, but she pressed a sloppy wet kiss on his lips without a second thought. He reared back, and his eyes widened in surprise.

She prodded, “Well, what did you think I was going to do, Queen?”

He cupped her face delicately, thumbs pooling in her dimples. And Oliver kissed her passionately as if he never wanted to let her go. She tasted like citrus, liquor, and something he would later discover was just pure Felicity.

“Was that okay?” Oliver inquired when his eyebrows quirked.

Felicity sighed in approval, “More than okay.”

“Good, good.” He exhaled in relief.

His date suggested, tracing a finger over his star tattoo, “Hey, Oliver, want to get out of here, and head back to my place? I’m sure Cammie’s already off somewhere with your friend Shawn.”

“ _Felicity_.”

He stared deeply into her blue eyes in question. She looked at him with adoration, lust, and there was this glimmer in those eyes that felt like she trusted him.

“I do trust you, Oliver.”

Well, shit. He apparently said stuff out loud.

Oliver checked in, “Hey, are you sure? How drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough to know I want to do this.” Felicity admitted, looking down at his lap, “Not so drunk that you should feel guilty about taking advantage.”

“I didn’t want to assume, I…”

She laced their fingertips together, “I want this, Oliver. Our night doesn’t have to end.”

And it didn’t. Oliver’s gargantuan frame was wedged in her hand me down pink Cadillac that she got from her mom before she went off to U.M. Felicity pulled him up to her room, and they nearly tripped over their own feet. She laid in the center of her double bed, hair angelically fanned out over faded purple sheets. She blushed when he spotted her old childhood teddy bear and Sailor Moon pillow person on a window seat next to them. Felicity was absolutely mortified as she broke out in peals of anxious giggles.

“You’re cute.” He said, nuzzling her nose with his.

Felicity whined, “My god, that’s so embarrassing.”

“Ah, so Shawn hasn’t shown you my Hulk Hogan action figures.” Oliver offered, easing her nerves, “I keep ‘em by my Econ textbooks.”

She giggled, “You’re something else.”

“Here. So they won’t see a thing.” He turned her stuffed animals toward her horizontal blinds.

Felicity slapped his chest playfully. Their amusement quieted down. Oliver chewed his lower lip. He pressed a kiss on her mouth before his hand found her breast. The biker cupped the heavy flesh through her black dress. Sequins got caught in his calloused palms. Her moan echoed his groan, and he pulled back just to make sure she was okay.

“I’m fine.” She growled, eyes piercing into his stupidly handsome face in annoyance.

His forehead crinkled, “You sure about that?”

“Of course, I am.” Felicity grumbled.

In response, the waitress pushed him back and he heard the promising sound of a zipper. Her black gown swooshed on the light hardwood floor. She tugged at his black suspenders, and he got the message. His clothes joined hers. His hands were amazing. They roamed over her body, bare beneath him, for what felt like forever. His fingers worked into Felicity, easing in gently at first. He rubbed her clitoris until his name fell from her lips. She gazed up at him, drunk with pleasure. He sucked on his fingertips. She tasted rich, tangy, and sweet.

After a satisfied pop, Oliver inquired, “So now what?”

“Condom top drawer on your left,” Felicity directed with a wave of her arm.

Her tongue did a little dance with Oliver, and she tasted herself on his lips. He kissed and nibbled on her neck. She’d definitely need some concealer for that beard burn before work. Not wanting to stop kissing her, he rummaged around her nightstand for that small foil package. Oliver accidentally plucked her tiny purple vibrator that looked like an innocent tube of lip gloss. Her cheeks heated again, and Felicity couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, let’s hope you won’t need that tonight.” He let out a breathy laugh, “And you know I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

She teased, cupping the back of his head, “How is it you always know how to say the right thing?”

“Experience.”

“Yeah.” Felicity said, sneaking a hand between them. She palmed his length until he was ready to go. Her thumb swiped over the tip, and she ripped open the rubber with her teeth, “Then show me.”

She straddled his lap. He shuddered when he was sheathed her wet heat. The sensations were muted, but still there. Shadows danced on her wall as they made love. Sunrise seeped through Felicity’s bedroom window. Heat coursed through their veins. Gasps and whimpers were sweet interludes before they reached a masterful crescendo. Her head lolled back on that final hard downward thrust. His fingertips dug into her hips and his cool breath ghosted over her sweaty skin.

“Wow! Felicity, you were amazing.”

Her smeary glossed lips lifted in a smile against his tattoo, “You too.”

They fell asleep, tangled in each other’s limbs. A text from his lawyer Jean Loring pulled Oliver out of slumber. William’s custody hearing had been moved up to two days from now. He gathered his clothes strewn about on the floor and left without another word. He was a sweet talker, even though Oliver didn’t always do the right thing.

* * *

_**Present Time — Waffle House** _

The evening air sent a chill up his spine. He rode his Ducati for the past three days in a row just waiting to say something to her. He stayed outside in the parking lot like a little lost puppy waiting for his owner. Felicity rubbed her sore feet and walked out to her junky pink Cadillac.

Oliver said messily, “Hey.”

“You again.” Felicity finally looked his way, “I thought Cammie already told you, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I know. I know.” He panted, running after her. “But if you could just give me one chance to explain.”

With a hand on her, she clicked her tongue, “Explain what? You left and then ghosted me.”

“I am a huge idiot.” Oliver realized, pointing to himself, “And I am so sorry. I should’ve told you I was leaving.”

The blonde scoffed, “Gee, you think?”

“I-I just got so concerned about missing that custody hearing for my son, I honestly just forgot about everything else.”

Damn it. She wasn’t mad at the reason. Devoted parents deserve to see their child. However, Felicity was still pissed at how Oliver handled the situation.

“You forgot everything including me,” Felicity poked him in the chest. 

Oliver confessed, “I-I didn’t. I tried to get Shawn and Cammie to help me out. I tried calling you and e-mailing you.”

“I never got anything.” Felicity thought, remembering a couple instances when her best friend borrowed stuff, “Cammie.”

He squeezed her shoulder, “She loves you. I just met you once, and I can see why.”

“Sometimes a little too much.” The blonde grumbled.

Oliver hummed, “Hm, maybe.”

“But give me a reason to make me not use the mace I have in my purse.” She warned, reaching for the spray in her brown crossbody bandolier.

The biker frowned, “Well, that’s a little extreme.”

“Oliver, you waited outside my work three days in a row. That’s some Joe from _You_ level craziness.”

He could sort of see her point, but he was different.

He huffed out a laugh, “I’m sorry. I guess I was trying too hard to make some grand romantic gesture.”

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, “So why are you here after six months?"

Oliver sighed, fingertips gently splayed out on her cheek, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you from the moment we met.” He bounced on his toes, “And-and I was hoping you’d give me a second chance.”

“When you go back to Gotham, you’ll let me know in advance?” She pouted her lips cutely.

He promised with a nod, “Yes.”

“Good. Then let me just change out of my uniform, and we can go.”

“Go where?”

“There’s a Motel Six three blocks down from here. I’m assuming my place is a little too crowded with you and your buddy Shawn in town. But we can go there and talk.”

“Talking sounds like a good start.”

She leaned in closer, “And then we can see where the night takes us.”

The corners of his lips tugged in a soft grin. Felicity changed out of her pale yellow uniform in a white tank top, matching cardigan, flat boots, and short denim booty shorts that definitely caught Oliver’s eye. He tossed her a helmet with a red rose. She trepidatiously threw a leg over the side, and held onto him tight. Wind breezed through her blonde waves. 

Her head nestled in the crook of his neck. The soundscape of blaring horns and big rigs seemed to fade out, and she heard was the enticing roar from his Ducati’s engine. Felicity leaned with Oliver on a wide turn. He smirked against his helmet vision because seeing Felicity again was like his center of gravity was restored. His Ducati was parked right out their room. Crickets chirped in patches of grass. At the moment, Oliver and Felicity weren’t fairing much better right after the thrill of throwing a wad of cash on the front desk to rent a room for the night. Oliver sat at the edge of the bed. Felicity stood at the closet door as she still as a statue, adopting a flamingo stance.

Oliver cleared his throat, “You said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk. I’m sorry about how I handle things six months ago.”

“You said that already.”

His eyes squeezed shut, “Look, I get that being a divorced single dad, who’s still in college wouldn’t be at the top of anyone’s dating list.”

“Well, to be fair, neither would a waitress at the Waffle House with abandonment issues.” Something caught in her throat, “But, it’s not even about that.”

“Then what is about? Because I’d really like for us to be friends, and…”

Her bare feet padded the musty orange shag carpet. She grimaced at the clumps of dirt, dust, and God knows what else on her heel, but none of that mattered now. Felicity approached Oliver.

Felicity pointed out, looping her arms around his shoulders, “Are we just friends? Because if that night was any indication, I’d say we’re more than that.”

He chuckled, fingertips tracing circles around her wrist, “Uh, I didn’t want to push my luck, but I hope we can start from there.”

“Really? Because friends don’t know the way you taste” She asked, licking her lips, “Friends don’t think about you from the moment you left, and friends aren’t attracted to you so bad, it scares them.”

Oliver inhaled, “So what are we going to do about it?”

“Take off your shirt.”

Well, so much for talking. She wished she could pretend she didn’t want him. Felicity pulled back, and Oliver peeled off his white undershirt. His dog tags clinked, and Felicity licked her lips at the sight of his six pack abs. God she missed those. Her nipples poked through her white tank top, and she leaned against him. Easing both of their nerves, Oliver took a moment, just one moment. Felicity stood on her tip toes just to reach him. Their lips collided in a slow searing kiss. Teeth and tongue got involved. 

Suddenly, he spun her around quickly, and they fell back onto the mattress. Her hips were the perfect cradle for his broad torso. They kissed. Stubble trailed down the side of her neck. He sucked on her nipple through her shirt, and she keened so loud, it startled him.

Her lover said, “Sorry.” not sounding apologetic at all.

“No, don’t stop. Keep going.” Felicity moaned, eyes half lidded as she drank in the sight of him.

He dotted sweet kisses from her forehead to her nose. She undid his belt buckle, and he attempted to push his jeans and boxers down in one go. Felicity laughed at him, but he got it done. He plucked a condom out of his wallet and tossed it at the huge hole on the bed with exposed mattress springs. They avoided that side.

He mused, “That’s for later.”

“Ringer!” She joked when the rubber landed dead center in the spot.

His body blanketed hers, and her hips undulated below him. They matched each other thrust for thrust in a staccato rhythm. His cock slipped over her wet heat. Oliver made a little pert disappointed noise when Felicity rolled up from under him, but only to remove her shirt. Her skin was adorned with little moles and freckles that were begging to be kissed.

He was in awe of her, “Damn.”

“You’re welcome,” Felicity quipped playfully, shimmying underneath him, “Now where were we?”

“Right about here.”

His length teased her clitoris. Felicity took matters into her own, rolling the condom on him. She giggled when he groaned loudly at the mere touch of her hand. He pushed inside slowly burying himself to the hilt. Felicity gasped. His calloused hands carded through her hair, waiting for her to be ready. She nipped at his lower lip, and he got the hint. His butt flexed. Their pelvises slammed against each other. Short rapid breaths filled the dusty room. A few pillow feathers spilled out underneath them. Felicity bit gently on his shoulder marked with a dragon tattoo, and that was all it. A grunt rumbled from his throat as they fell over the edge together.

After they cleaned up, and regained their bearings, Felicity thought, “Well, that was six months worth waiting for.”

“Mm, Thank you.” Oliver drawled groggily, wiping remnants of her smeary lip gloss.

“Um… You don’t have to thank me for sex. I mean, I was the one who gave the green light.”

“No, no.” He breathed heavily, “I meant thank you for trusting me.”

She exhaled, “So you still gonna be here where I wake up.”

“I swear.”

On that note, Oliver and Felicity slipped into a dreamless sleep. They slept on top of the sheets, counting blue palm trees on the water damaged wallpaper. Felicity’s body clock was already set to 5AM, but she would’ve woken up earlier given the animal noises next to her. She drew open the holey brown curtains, and sunrise burst into the room. A ray darted over his face, and he shielded his eyes.

“Morning.” Felicity chimed, pitch dropping, “You know you snore like a pig.”

“And you snore like a broken air condition,” He retorted in amusement.

She gave him a lopsided smirked, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

For a moment, he was content to just watch this beautiful woman bask in the sunlight. He wrapped arms around her from behind, watching the sunrise change from hues of orange and pink to blue. They had a mundane view of the parking lot, but Felicity knew it wasn’t time for check-out. She guided him back to the edge of the bed, and wedged herself between his legs. He peppered kisses all over her face, returning that little love bite she left on his shoulder last night.

She pushed back against the flat pillows, “You know I like it better on top.”

“Again? You’re starting to make me feel cheap, Felicity.” He said sarcastically, mentioning, “I’m also out of condoms.”

“I’m on the pill. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now shut up and love me.”

He pulled her back against him. They engaged a funky French kiss, morning breath and all. Giggles and whimpers muddled together in their own little bubble. By the time they were done. Wood from the headboard creaked and cracked. The couple dashed out of they when they realized they had broken the bed even more. Her boots were on the wrong feet.

Oliver guffawed, holding her hand, “That was insane. You think he saw us?”

“No.” Felicity replied with an amused headshake. Her face crumpled, “Ow! My boots are all messed up.”

The motel owner with a goatee and gray ponytail chased after them, “Hey, you crazy kids. Get back here.”

“Damn, we gotta…”

Felicity directed, ushering him to start his Ducati, “What are you doing? Go, go, go!”

Oliver jumped his bike. Felicity hopped on the back, and they fled the scene of the crime. He drove her back to the Waffle House. The front doorbell dined, and Felicity began work in the same clothes she wore last night.

With a fleeting kiss, Oliver noted, “You know we never did finish our dance. And I think it’s time I take you on a proper date, so can you meet me at Rojas tonight.”

“Sure. I can have Cammie drop me off.”

Speaking of her best friend, Cammie elbowed, “Ooh, someone got lucky last night.”

“And this morning.” Felicity added under her breath.

Cammie said, “Girl, no way. Even assholes can be redeemed.”

“Girls basta with de talk, talk. I need chocolate chip waffles at table six ahora.” Cammie’s papa yelled behind them.

His employees chimed in unison, “On it.”

By nightfall, Felicity stepped out of Cammie’s powder blue Nissan from the nineties in a vibrant yellow gown with tantilizing side cutouts. Oliver stared at Felicity like she hung the moon and stars in the sky.

“Don’t fuck it up, Oliver.” Shawn whispered through the side of his mouth.

He flicked the back of his best friend’s head, “Shut it.”

“Come on, Shawny.” Cammie called from the car, “Let’s give Cinderella and her prince some more time alone.”

His best friend climbed in the passenger side, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

That was a short list. Her heels clanked against the cobblestone walkway. They walked into Rojas with nothing but a chef and a bartender in sight. The fairy lights strung up really made the small space seem bigger.

“What? You-you can not afford to rent out the whole place.”

“Nah, but my Uncle Walter can. It is his spot.”

Felicity whistled, “Wow!”

“You look beautiful.” Oliver sighed, unable to take his eyes off her.

The chef brought them out some pozole, open faced Cubanos, a tequila sunrise for Felicity and a neat Scotch for Oliver. They talked about how they would make this whole long distance thing work, and Oliver even showed Felicity a picture of William as he was enjoying tummy time on his _Cars_ playmat.

His date cooed, “Your little man is scrumptious. He’s got your eyes.”

“Yeah.” Oliver concurred with a proud grin.

Loud trumpets blared over the speakers. Oliver and Felicity attempted a basic ChaCha, stepping on each other’s toes. They laughed about it. And then tune dipped into something more saucy. Violins played a heart-piercing, sexy, and romantic compositions fit for a Tango. Oliver first spun her out away from him. She strutted to the music, grabbing his hand again. She twirled into him, legs latched against his torso from behind. She jumped, heels clomping as she spun out. They repeated a similar step, and Felicity channeled her inner Janet Jackson with a body roll that made Oliver blush as his blood rushed south. Another spin, and Felicity jumped into his arms. He held her hips aloft, and she bounced in his arms as Felicity was suddenly pinned against the textured rock wall cushioned with tarp and white textured velvet.

“Oliver, what about you Uncle’s employees?”

He assured with a smirk, “They’re out back taking a smoke break, but they’ll probably be gone for another hour or two. You feeling okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

His breath was teasing her. She slid down the wall slight. Felicity’s long skirt was rucked up past her ass. He kissed and nibbled along her inner thighs, grumbling about beard burn. Her whole weight was resting his shoulder, but the way he made her feel was more important. She trusted him. And Oliver ate her out vigorously like Felicity was his dessert. He groaned into her delicate skin, and she writhed against his face. He licked and sucked at her nether lips before he slipped two fingers inside her, crooking them until she was a trembling mess. Felicity arched into him as the seductive tango composition quiet down.

Wiping his mouth, her new boyfriend, “You’re perfect.”

“Eh, you’re okay. I guess.”.

They closed out the night with Horchata ice cream from the local bodega. Oliver’s engine rumbled as they cruised along a long stretch of highway near a crystal clear lake.

Oliver prompted, “You ready?”

“Yeah, first Gotham to see your folks. Then what?” His girlfriend wondered.

He mused, “Hm, how ‘bout Boston?”

Felicity squeezed his torso tighter in agreement. She and Oliver got their happy ending in this crazy story book romance as they rode off into the sunset together.

**Author's Note:**

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